Marble and Sculptor
by Raynidreams
Summary: Post cannon. David8 is what and who he is, and more.


He grinned mercilessly. "Of course... of course. I serve you."

Elizabeth backed away. The conversation jarred; it having suddenly leapt from a general discussion, over a cliff and into a free fall. "That's not what I asked."

David moved faster than she could and pinned her. "You basically asked why I did what I did to Dr. Holloway. You asked why I am here." He moved his mouth close to hers. "It's simple. He wanted to know. He just didn't have the higher capacity to understand what it was that he was truly searching for."

"You poisoned him, you son of a bitch," she shouted, wriggling ineffectually in his arms. "You murdered him!"

David's smile upped. If he'd ever felt true emotion, it was now. "And with both your statements, you finally acknowledge something about me that you haven't before. You never hated me, because like him, you didn't see me. You patted me on the head like a pet dog, and not even a real one at that. A generated image of a faithful companion that bit when you thought its snarl one of play. Only I never snarled. I smiled and gave him what he asked for. The ability to really know, to follow in their path. To talk to them through the agelessness of genetics… of evolution." He spoke calmly while she twisted in his grasp, his arms tight, with his hands holding hers.

"Let me go, David."

"But now… now you're angry. Now you are fierce… and through you, I can feel what those emotions are like. Your body is brimming with them. High on its own urgency." Without warning, he yanked the zip down at the back of her uniform.

"No, David!"

"Really? I will of course, stop. But understand what you've done this day. What your rage and your…"

"Stop this! Stop it! You're a murder and… and a…"

"You're reacting to me sexually. I can see it when you look at me sometimes; my eyes are able to read as much as your dreams show. Your pupils dilate, your body floods with adrenaline…"

"No, no… please…."

David grasped her to him and kissed her hard, using his mouth probingly in the way that he knew she liked. Inserting his knee in between hers in the way he'd seen Holloway do so many times. She gasped, and against him, Elizabeth found she could hardly breathe…

…Not against such an onslaught. Not against her own body or her dreams. She grabbed him back... before shame descended. And as abruptly as his attack started, he thrust her away. Panting, she tugged her clothing back around her, covering up her breasts.

"Your body feels exposed when I am here," David continued, eyes not on the tips of her shoulders, but at the crown of her dark head. "Each day it occurs to you more... What we are. What we choose to do... to be."

"I didn't choose this!" she shouted, her face fierce.

"Yes you did. You chose to follow your creators with a creation of mankind. You chose to take the steps towards knowing."

"Fuck you!"

David laughed. He sounded surprised as he did, not at her but at himself. Laughter at hate, laughter at irony. Laughter. "With each day you see more what I am and what I could be. Your rage, it's so focused, so beautiful in what you choose throw at me. You suggested I had a mother. You suggested I am worth anger. You called me a murderer, not a tool of murder… if indeed, that's what I did to Doctor Holloway."

Elizabeth's mouth twisted angrily. "I do hate you. You put a thing in me. And what you've seen…"

"I watched. I listened. I Loved…"

"Love! Love does not kill!"

He took a pointless breath, his eyebrows peaked. She flushed; the colour spreading down her cheeks and neck. He stepped closer and placed a palm against her abdomen, then forced himself against her again. His erection obvious in the simple cotton clothing that he wore.

"Don't touch me... I swear…"

His body felt as though it could act, just like hers. She closed her eyes, the memory of the momentary hope dancing in her mind before it'd been dashed against the rocks of a dead world. She stopped struggling (pretending) and stilled within his embrace. And as soon as she did, David nodded and took three steps back, his menacing manner once more slipping into pleasant and interested while his body visibly softened. Away, he paused, looking at her as intently as she'd once studied his features in the promotional adverts for the new David8. Then distantly, he blinked.

"Now we have that settled... I suggest you rest. These weeks together have been trying."

Elizabeth's mouth opened into a little 'o', then snapped firmly closed when he made a playful shooing gesture with his hands: once more the picture of a dignified butler. His lean body neat in his uniform, fit and firm. There to provide ease… She shook herself.

David tilted his head to the side.

"Yes, indeed, rest time… go have… sweet dreams," he encouraged. His words soft, his mouth curled. He took a familiar step closer. Elizabeth inhaled quickly as she felt the tenderness prickle anew in her stomach and chest where he'd touched her. It tingled with promise, until Charlie's face rose up.

Without thought, her head dropped down and she sobbed. Then it shot back up when she felt him draw even closer. She wondered what showed upon her face; whatever it was, David carried on to say, "Remember, Elizabeth, I'll do whatever you ask, whatever you want." And with that, gripped her arm, hard enough to hurt. She yelped, wriggling like the last time, but miraculously managed to pull free.

"Don't touch me. I don't want you to ever touch me again," she shouted. Her guilt vanishing with the spark of anger.

"Yes, of course." He dipped his head, echoing her, and then stepped away.


End file.
